Four Days Later
by PSiwrotethis
Summary: Debra Morgan has just been released from the hospital. The very man that saved her life, was the one to escort her home, and well...lets just say she definitely will be feeling something as compared to her previous state of being numb. Writer chose not to give away her partner's name...but read on to find out who it is ;-) Rated M for language and sexual content.


When she was told she was being released, she called _him _first – asked him to pick her up. He was more than willing. They drove to her house in almost complete silence…stealing glances when they knew the other wasn't looking. _Fucking seventy-two hour suicide watch, my ass. What, do they think four days in that fucking hell-hole would make me want to NOT kill myself? _

Four days ago, it was him that found her at her house...lying on her bathroom floor. The vodka, Xanax, and Oxycodone numbed her senses so much that she didn't even feel it when the blade cut into her flesh. Ironic isn't it? When she had cut herself in High School after her mother died, it had been so that she could feel _something_ as opposed to feeling numb. Now, on the other hand, she was inflicting pain on herself – punishing herself, but couldn't feel it _because_ of the numbness.

He had only stopped by to see how she was holding up. He opened her unlocked door, called out her name, and began searching her house when she didn't answer. When he did find her, he immediately fell to his knees. They say in times of crisis or trauma, its not uncommon for your mind and your body just go on auto-pilot. Your hands and feet move faster than you knew they could, and you can have full conversations with people and not even feel as though you're present. That's what had happened four days ago. He scooped her up and carried her to his car. _Fuck, she had always been thin, but he didn't remember her ever being this fragile. _When he got to the hospital, more phone calls were made and doctors spoke to everyone there…throwing out words like "depressed," and "suicidal." He had been praised for getting her there when he did, but warned that she might resent him for it later. Which is exactly what he was thinking about as he followed her up her driveway - the possibility that she may hate him for saving her.

He opened her door and entered her house, she behind him. She turned to close and lock the door and when she turned back around he was standing right in front of her, gazing into her eyes. He slowly lifted his left hand to brush the hair out of her face, and she turned her cheek so it rested in the palm of his hand. She closed her eyes as she let out a little moan and licked her lips.

"Deb, I…"

"Shut the fuck up," she said lustfully, one hand grabbing the nape of his neck, the other pulling him closer to her.

Now was not the time for him to question what was going on or why, because, well quite frankly, he really had wanted this to happen for some time now. Understanding quite clearly her need as well as his, he walked her a few steps back, pushing her body up against the door. Their kisses were long and full of passion and need. With one hand on her shoulder, and his leg in between hers, he pinned her back against the door. With his free hand, he explored her body. His hand crept up her shirt and over her bra-covered breast. She slowly moved her hands down his chest, undoing each button with increasing determination. When she reached the last one, she pushed it off his arms – his muscular and enveloping arms. She could feel him against her and it made her feel powerful knowing she could do that that to him…made her want him even more. He quickly undid his belt and opened his pants, and with a little tug they were making their way to the ground. He broke away from kissing just long enough for her to whimper and open her eyes. He kicked off his shoes, pants, and boxers and gave a sly smile. Within seconds hers joined his.

He bent down and lifted her off the ground. It shouldn't have surprised him how light she was, after all it was only four days ago that he held her close to him, but still, it caused him to pause for a moment. In his arms she felt safe. In his arms, she felt like she could deal with whatever shit was going on in her life. I her arms, she felt…happy. She reached down with her right hand as he kissed her neck, still holding her against the door. She grabbed him and let out a smile as she positioned him just in the right spot, shifting ever so slightly before slowly lowering herself onto him. She wasn't quite wet enough yet, and it had been a few months since her last escapade – and every time she screwed Briggs she was drink or high or coked out or all of the above – but she _needed _this…needed _him._

"Fuck…Deb…" he said, exhaling deeply. He thrust into her hard, but not too hard. The last thing he wanted was to cause her any more pain.

"Oh God…" She rolled her head back and dug her nails into his shoulders. He felt so good. She felt full with him inside her…complete. He continued kissing her collarbone, letting out his own moans. She lowered her face to look at him, bringing one hand to his cheek. He opened his eyes to meet hers, and for a split second, the world around them froze. Nothing mattered but him and her. _Them. _He couldn't admit to himself, but that's really what he's wanted all along. For she and him to be a _them._

"Bedroom…" She was breathing so heavily that she barely got the word out. A smirk appeared on his face and he carried her down the hall. It wasn't until he reached her room, that he saw, briefly at least, how chaotic her life must have been for these past few months. Beer bottles were everywhere and he was pretty sure he detected the smell of marijuana – but he wouldn't dare interrupt this to ask her. It was only this past Wednesday that he had found her right here. _After. _He told himself. _I'll talk to her about it after…_

Once he had lowered her onto the bed, she looked up at him, and grabbed his arm. "My turn," she said with a devilish grin. She pulled him down so he lay next to her on the bed. Moving so she was straddling him, she forced him to crawl back on the bed. Once he was where _she_ wanted him, she began kissing him again; this time, with more passion and intensity than before. She pushed on his shoulders so he lay completely flat, as she began trailing kisses down his neck and to his collarbone, then lower and lower. Kissing. Sucking. Biting. She felt his hand behind her head, fingering her long brown hair.

Had this been someone new, she would not no what to expect. Would not know what to do to _really _please. Secure as she was with her sexuality, she was still somewhat insecure. But this was Quinn - they had been together for a little over a year and she knew _exactly_ what he liked, and lucky for him, she was eager to be generous. His hand was behind her head, and he was doing that squirmy thing that she would always tease him about. Her right hand slid slowly up his thigh, and stopped when she reached his lower abdomen. _I know what will really get him. _She began to ever so gently tickle his core. Another thing she used to joke about. Joey fuckin' Quinn, badass detective, was fuckin' ticklish. Oh, how she loved being in control like this…and when _she_ was done, she crawled her way up the bed atop him, leaving him breathless and wanting more…more of that…more of her…just…more. Just as before, she grabbed him…her intensity surprising both of them..

He had never seen her like this before. And as hot as it was, and it _was_ pretty fuckin' hot, he couldn't help but think about whether or not this had anything to do with what she had been going through lately. He closed his eyes and thought about her lying in that fucking hospital bed, hooked up to all this shit that he was told would keep her "stable." Stable? What the hell did that even mean? Soon though, he wasn't able to think at all anymore. His hands wrapped around her hips as she sat upright and maneuvered out of her shirt and bra. _Finally. _She angled herself so she was closer to him, and took one of his hands and placed it over her breast. Each time she moved, she pushed herself lower and lower…closer to him.

When he couldn't stand it anymore, he grabbed her in a way that caused her to gasp, and flipped her so he was on top of her. Letting out a small giggle, she wrapped her legs around his waist, using her feet to press down on his calves.

"Ha….har…der," she exclaimed. "Deep…deeper…Motherfuckkkk…Joey."

Hearing her call out his name always had done something to him that he could never really explain or understand. He did as she requested and she showed her appreciation by cupping, "the guys," as he used to call them…yet another thing they would laugh about when life was so much easier.

"Shiiiiiit, Morgan…"

"Me too…"

Ever the gentleman, he let her go first. He felt her involuntarily tighten around him as she let out a strangled cry, and he followed after, pumping into her twice more before relieving himself. He collapsed on top of her and she brought her legs down so her feet were planted on the bed, knees in the air. They stayed like that for five minutes – not speaking. Just letting themselves recover.

"Deb," he said quietly, still with his head on her chest. "I don't wanna fuckin ruin this. But are you…are you like, okay? We don't have to talk about what's going on if you don't want to. I just never really got to like see how you're doing after…you know…"

He felt her chest tighten as she sniffled and breathed in deep.

"I…" she started. "I'm…"

"Hey, look at me," he said to her, slightly shifting so he lay next to her, tugging on her waist so she faced him. He wiped the tear from her cheek, and grabbed the back of her head so he could kiss her forehead.

"Joey, I…You've gotta understand, I…I'm not mad at you for…" she stopped herself. "For saving my life. I was in a low place. A really fucking low place. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Shit, Joey, there's a fuck ton I wish I could undo. And fuckin' take back." She was crying now, her body convulsing against his. "And there's nothing I can do about any of it. I…I…"

"Shhhhh," he whispered. "Baby, its okay. Its gonna be okay. I'm right here. I'm right here."

She pulled away from his face and turned so they lay facing the same direction. With a swift motion, she pulled on his right arm so that it lay across her body, entangling his fingers with hers. She always did feel safe snuggled up next to him. With here eyes closed, she smiled to herself as she recalled one night when she was freezing in his apartment. He had gotten all excited because when she jokingly told him she wanted him to be the "big spoon," he thought it was some new sex move. _God, it was so easy back then._

"Quinn," she said after a few moments. "Do you think we can ever have it again?"

"Have what?"

"What we had before. What we had, together."

"Nothing would make me fuckin' happier. But you gotta promise me something. Whatever fuckin' happens. I need you to talk to me before…" he couldn't say it.

She knew what he meant. _Before she slid down the rabbit hole again. Before she bottomed out. Before she tried to kill herself again._

"I promise."

Quinn wanted to be the one who told Dexter…and the sooner the better. The two had formed this bizarre relationship revolved around her. Helping her… The next morning at the station, he went to talk to him in his lab. He acted calm and told him that if his sister was going to be with anyone, he was glad it was someone who would actually care for and watch after her. And he had meant it. It wasn't until that night when Harrison asked when he could see "Aunt Deb" that he realized that _he_ wanted to be the one to care for and watch after her. _He _wanted to be with her. The way she had wanted to be with him not too long ago.

The next morning, Quinn lightly kissed Debra as he headed out to go to work. When she awoke about an hour later, she checked her phone and saw that she received a message from Dexter.

"You shouldn't be with him. You should be with me."


End file.
